


The Legend of the Blue Spirit

by Reyn



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, The Mummy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-04-10 10:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4388120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyn/pseuds/Reyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an ancient forest deep within the Earth Kingdom, an exiled prince, a "thief" and his librarian sister, and a swindling prison guard form an unlikely band of explorers in search of a legendary treasure. What they unearth instead is a legacy of terror that has been buried for over a millennia.</p><p>aka The Mummy!zutara AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Many, many years ago, when the age of mankind was still new and naive, there was a god named Agni. He was the ruler of the sun, of fire, of heat, of burning, and of the consuming fevers that were well known to take one's life.  
  
Humans and spirits alike both loved and feared him, because as kind as he was to give them the sun each day, and even share his fire and heat with the world, his elements could easily be turned against them should he be angered.  
  
Despite this, Agni was a mostly a benevolent god that believed in a balance existing only slightly to his favor.  
  
At least, he was until the day he noticed the number of humans roaming the land were far greater than what he, and many other gods, were comfortable with.  
  
Upon investigation, he came to find a simple river spirit -- the Painted Lady -- was responsible for this. When people began to burn with Agni's fever, they came to her river where she would heal them without fear of Agni's wrath. This allowed the human population to grow, thus tipping the delicate balance of the world.  
  
Furious with the Painted Lady, Agni sent forth various spirits to put a stop to her. None prevailed except for the Blue Spirit, a dark deity of passion under Agni's command.  
  
Normally, passion would be an emotion that burns hot, which made it easy for Agni to manipulate and control amongst other spirits. But the Blue Spirit was a wild card who followed Agni out of loyalty alone, and his wrath was one that burned cold with vengeance.  
  
This gave the Blue Spirit the patience needed to lay in wait and watch the Painted Lady to learn how to succeed when all other spirits were failing.  
  
At long last, the Blue Spirit made his move. With the sun far below the horizon, he dragged the Painted Lady away from her river and any source of healing water, to a place where he would be able to finish her off. The fight between them was fierce, but without her water, the Painted Lady was unable to prevent the Blue Spirit from overpowering her. Before he could deliver the blow that would end her life, something stayed the Blue Spirit's hand.  
  
When Agni had assigned the Blue Spirit this task, he did not realize that passion that ran so dark could so easily turn light. And in his days of watching her, the Blue Spirit had fallen in love with the Painted Lady.  
  
As the sun barely began to lighten the horizon, the Blue Spirit carried the Painted Lady's body into the darkest of forests, where they would be able to hide from Agni's all-seeing eye.

To protect them, the forest transformed itself into a swamp, pooling enough water for the Painted Lady to heal both herself and her unexpected savior.  
  
When Agni learned of the Blue Spirit’s crime, he descended from the sky to hunt down the one who had betrayed him so, scorching the earth and causing droughts in his pursuit. A plague descended upon mankind, and it was as the human race thinned to near nonexistence, forced to flee on the backs of lion turtles for survival, that the lovers finally came out of hiding.  
  
Any hope they had to reason with Agni was eliminated as Agni struck down the Painted Lady, finishing the job he had sent others out to do so long ago.  
  
Shock at the sight held the Blue Spirit still long enough for the pain spearing through his heart and body to twist him into something far darker than he had ever been before. While his love for the Painted Lady had been his salvation, it was now his doom. He became the First Demon and attacked everything in a rage so strong, not even Agni could contain him.  
  
Their battle became a war, and despite the overwhelming numbers against him, the Blue Spirit could not be defeated.  
  
Surprisingly enough, it was a young human child who brought about the Blue Spirit’s end. The child brought a small pouch of water to pour over the Painted Lady’s corpse and prayed for her to wake – to calm the Blue Spirit’s heart once more.  
  
While the Painted Lady could no longer answer such prayers, The Swamp could.  
  
In a moment of brief rest, when his vision was dimming, wounds approaching fatal, and his healing abilities stemmed, the Blue Spirit found himself ensnared by vines. They dragged him to the center of the swamp, where the largest and strongest of trees swallowed him whole, taking on the task of containing his wrath.  
  
Once it became clear the swamp’s hold on the Blue Spirit would not break, Agni returned to his throne with the promise to leave the world at peace to flourish as it saw fit. The family of the human child moved in to build a temple around the spirit’s body, to help take on the burden of ensuring the Blue Spirit would never break free as thanks to The Swamp for answering her plea.  
  
As the years went by, humans once more flourished, and many came to the temple to pay their respects to the fallen Painted Lady, leaving behind gifts of gold and treasure, in hopes of appeasing the Blue Spirit’s anger, which still raged on from his living tomb. But, as the years continued to grow into the hundreds, and even thousands, people eventually forgot what had transgressed here.  
  
It is now only us, the last Airbenders, who know of why The Swamp must always be avoided. For in their ignorance, should anyone rediscover the Blue Spirit’s resting place, he may reawaken, and continue on his unquenchable quest for revenge until there is nothing left but death and destruction.  
  
+  
  
**Three years ago…**  
  
The air was hot and heavy, which left the small faction of Fire Nation soldiers sagging under its pressure. Despite the discomfort within their armor, the warriors stood strong along the decrepit walls that marked the beginnings of the ancient forest.  
  
Up ahead, Earth Kingdom soldiers were racing towards them by the hundreds, weapons already drawn and war cries being shouted.  
  
From behind their held position, a sudden clanking prompted the young Prince Zuko to turn his head, only to see his army’s commander turning tail to run for cover in the depths of the woods.  
  
“Looks like you just got that promotion you were hoping for,” Jet muttered with a smirk.  
  
Zuko scowled at the man. “It must be your lucky day. This will give you a chance to work off your debt a lot faster than planned.”  
  
Despite the snarky attitude, Jet was right. With their commander abandoning them, Zuko now held the highest authority over the troop.  
  
“Hold steady!” he ordered, and pride washed through him as the men and women reaffirmed their positions.  
  
At his side, Jet lowered his stance to tap one of his hooked swords against the crumbled top of the wall. Zuko was honestly surprised the rebel had stuck with them for this long. Going to war wasn’t part of the bargain that had been struck.  
  
Zuko dropped his princely demeanor. “Are you really going to stay for this?”  
  
Jet snorted. “What kind of man do you take me for?” he asked as he continued to nervously tap his weapon.  
  
Zuko gritted his teeth. Too many times he had underestimated Jet, and every single time, Jet had gone out of his way to point it out and prove his worth. It made Zuko wonder if maybe he should start to put a little bit of faith in his originally unwanted friend. He really had no idea what was holding him back.  
  
“Steady!” he shouted again as he could feel the rumbling of the oncoming army through the wall he was leaning against.  
  
Jet shook his head. “There’s too many of them.”  
  
It was now Zuko’s turn to snort. “The Earth Kingdom has yet to win any wars against us.”  
  
“This isn’t a war. This is a squabble, the kind of shit history books erase, regardless of who wins or loses.”

When Zuko didn’t bother to respond, Jet turned to him. “You’re sentencing your men to death with these numbers!” he hissed.  
  
Zuko stubbornly kept his eyes forward. “We’re prepared to die with honor.”  
  
“There’s no honor in dying in a place where no one will remember you.”  
  
“Then leave and live without honor.” Zuko snapped, wasting no breathe as he gave the order to, “Fire!”  
  
From behind him, arrows were shot into the sky, and several seconds later, roughly an eighth of the Earth Kingdom’s frontline was down. It wasn’t nearly enough.  
  
“Attack!”  
  
Jet was no longer at his side when Zuko straightened, raising his dao swords just in time to stop a spear and bring down an opponent. It was an easy strike, but behind that one was another whose body weight was already thrown into a full attack.  
  
Back home, Zuko was known for being able to best any opponent placed before him in a one-on-one fight. The rules, he was quickly discovering, were very different on the battlefield when the enemy didn’t give a damn that you were already engaged in a tussle with someone else.  
  
Zuko soon found himself overwhelmed, defending himself against blows purely on panicked instinct.  
  
Cursing just how right Jet was, Zuko continued to lose ground as he fought back best he could, noticing far more red and black clad figures dropping to the ground than green ones.  
  
With Jet’s final words echoing through his mind, Zuko shouted out the order to retreat as he twisted around to escape the battle he was locked in before running for the forest. He prayed the woods would be enough to give those remaining the cover needed to hide out long enough to survive.  
  
As he weaved between the trees, he could hear several soldiers in pursuit and briefly turned to fight them off. Between the foliage, he could see flashes of brown and blue and knew Jet was in the same predicament as he.  
  
“Run, you idiot!” he shouted, slicing through the neck of one of his attackers before turning tail.  
  
“Easier said than done!” Jet grunted, pulling one of his hook swords out of his enemy’s belly and following Zuko. “Finally come to your senses?”  
  
“Just shut up and get to the temple!”  
  
Swords clashed and Zuko found himself saved from a killing blow due to tripping over an unseen root. He rolled away and scrambled to his feet, focusing now on surviving more than fighting. All around him were Earth Kingdom soldiers and he knew the second one of them managed to properly engage him in a fight, the rest would surround him and he would be a dead man.  
  
A dead prince. He couldn’t let that happen to his nation.  
  
Up ahead, temple ruins could be seen amongst the vines and trees. Leaping over a small puddle, Zuko’s arms pinwheeled to keep his balance as he made a sharp right towards the hidden entrance he and Jet had stumbled upon a few days earlier—  
  
– only to find Jet already there, struggling to open the stone wall.  
  
“Get the door! Hurry up!” Zuko shouted, looking over his shoulder just in time to see a spear flying towards him.  
  
He dodged to the side to avoid it and cleanly cut it in half with a quick swipe of his swords as it passed before continuing on his way. The move had gained his pursuers precious seconds, during which Jet had opened the passage, and was now struggling to pull the door shut behind him.  
  
“Jet!” Zuko put on a burst of speed. “Don’t you dare close that door!”  
  
Soldiers were right on him and Zuko knew he would have to fight several of them off if he wanted to make it. In a move born of complete desperation, he reached for his inner chi and threw an arm out behind him, hoping his pathetic attempt at firebending would startle his enemies - or make them fall over laughing. At this point, he was honestly okay with either option.  
  
Ahead of him, the secret passage shut with a dull clack, leaving Zuko trapped outside and surrounded. He hit the wall with a thud and pounded his fists against the stone.  
  
“Jet! Coward!”  
  
With a fortifying breath, Zuko turned to face his death head on. If he were to go down, he would go down as a true prince – with his chin raised, a defiant glare, and unbroken pride.  
  
His glare faltered, however, when he saw that he was no longer the main focus of his enemies’ attention.  
  
Just beyond the small clearing, several trees were alight with flames. Several feet away from Zuko, surrounded by comrades, were the charred remains of one of the Earth Kingdom soldiers.  
  
Had he done that? Zuko looked down at his hands. It was impossible. Even his uncle, considered one of the most talented firebenders alive, could only produce enough fire to light no more than five small candles lined in a row. And yet, here he was…  
  
He looked around, searching for another source the fire could have come from. He couldn’t recall the Earth Kingdom soldiers carrying any torches as they approached, and he knew none of his men in this division were firebenders themselves. Had one of his archers shot a lit arrow? But even that wouldn’t be enough for what he was seeing.  
  
One by one, the enemies’ attention turned back to Zuko, forcing him to abandon his confusion and focus on his overwhelming odds. If there was even the smallest of chances that the fire had come from him, then he was going to cling to the hope that he could do it again.  
  
Inhaling deeply, he let his eyes slip closed and dropped down into a stance he knew well thanks to General Iroh. The air he exhaled felt hot as it escaped past his lips, and as he moved through a series of kata, a dull roar erupted from his hands. His eyes snapped open, wide with shock, and he stared at the large flame before him.  
  
A gust of wind began to whip up around the temple ruins, but Zuko ignored it. He didn’t dare waste any time and punched his fist forward, shooting the fire out towards the other soldiers. The men went down, their screams nearly lost in the strong winds that were fanning Zuko’s fire up into a raging inferno.  
  
Zuko stepped back nervously, barely having time to feel a prickle of fear towards his element before it was picked up in another gust and sent rushing back towards him.  
  
He raised his hands, tried to push the flames back, but it was a futile effort. The fire reached his clothing and skin, and as he tried to turn his head away, all he could focus on was the intense burning he felt against his face.  
  
Pressed against the stone wall with nowhere to escape, Zuko let out a scream of pain before his world melted to blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Present Day**  
  
Katara should have known better. Really.  
  
One of the first things covered when she took this job was ladder safety. And then, immediately following the slap on the wrist for trying to climb said ladder was Rule Number Two: You Don’t Get To Touch The Scrolls Until I Deem You Trustworthy Enough To Handle Them With Care.  
  
Katara was fairly certain the only reason The Water Tribe Wing was still jammed in one of the tiny pillars of the Great Library was because Pakku didn’t trust _anyone_ to handle his precious scrolls and an expansion meant needing more employees, which meant more people _touching_ all the ancient pages.   
  
Fortunately, Katara had finally proven herself worthy of dishing out Rule Two rather than being subjected to it about a month ago.   
  
And now, as she stared down at the unraveled scroll on the floor far below her, all she could think of was how angry Pakku would be if there was even a _crack_ in its penguin seal skin.  
  
Well. One problem at a time.   
  
If she intended to do damage control, Katara needed to get off the ladder first. The ladder that was currently standing completely upright on its own two legs as she balanced precariously at the top. Note to self: never disregard the rules of ladder safety.  
  
“Help…” The word barely emerged as more than a whisper as she tried her best to force it from her throat.  
  
Her vision darted away from the floor to the bookshelf in front of her. Maybe if she gently pushed herself forward, she could slowly fall…  
  
Katara let out a scream as the ladder moved far faster than what she was ready for. She abruptly tried to straighten back out, only to feel herself falling backwards instead. Her attempts at correcting herself led to what probably looked like some comical seesawing that she happily would have laughed at if she didn’t fear for her life.   
  
It didn’t take long for her to lose what little control she had of the ladder and crash forward into the bookshelf, which, instead of breaking her fall, decided to tip over and fall with her.   
  
Her crash wasn’t the only one that sounded, and Katara looked up in horror to see one shelf after another tip over in a domino effect that circled the rounded room. It occurred to her almost too late to scramble out of the way as the last shelf came falling down right where she had been.  
  
It took a moment for the dust to settle, leaving Katara to fight back a small coughing fit as she pulled herself up on shaky legs and looked hopelessly around at the destruction that was once the most organized and cared for wing of the Great Library. Centuries of Water Tribe history now buried in a giant ring of rubble.   
  
Oooooh, Pakku was going to be _furious_.  
  
“Wha—…What?”  
  
A rattled gasp had Katara whirling around in time to see Pakku bringing a weathered hand to his chest in shock.  
  
“What _happened_?”  
  
Katara’s gaze darted to the Ra through Se shelf she had been organizing. “Uhm, well…”  
  
Despite the general lack of moisture in the air, goose bumps popped up on her skin as the temperature dropped several degrees.   
  
“Tui and La, give me killer panda whales. Give me eternal summers of darkness!” Both of Pakku’s hands went up pleadingly to the sky. “Give me global warming! Just give me anything but _you_.”  
  
Katara flinched at the harshness of the old man’s words. “Hey! I know this looks bad, but it was an accident!”  
  
“Looks bad—!” Pakku straightened in righteous fury. “No, Katara. Kuruk creating the crack in the ice shelf that led to all of Moon Harbor falling into the sea – _that_ was an accident. You _are a catastrophe_!”  
  
Katara shrunk back, having never seen Pakku’s icy façade shatter so completely.  
  
Eye twitching as his glare swept over the mess, Pakku pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a deep breath. “Why do I even put up with you?”  
  
Recognizing his words as an opportunity to keep her job, Katara proudly straightened her stance. “You put up with me because I know all of the old Water Tribe stories by heart and am knowledgeable in every other nation’s myths and legends and how they cross over with ours! And I can read spirit glyphs and translate between the similarities and differences throughout every culture! _And_ I’m the only waterbender of my generation, and seeing as how _you’re_ the only waterbender of _your—”_  
  
“I put up with you because of how dearly I loved your grandmother,” Pakku interrupted, clasping his hands behind his back as he once more gained his composure. “Even if she did hate me enough to flee away to the Southern Water Tribe, I still care for her enough to put up with you.”  
  
Katara could only blink at how poorly of a light the admission put Pakku in.  
  
“Now I don’t care how long it takes, or how you do it, but you _will_ get this wing back to its previous condition!” Pakku didn’t even wait for a response before turning on his heel and marching over a bookcase on his way out of the entrance where several spectators were peeking in.  
  
With a wave of his hands, the patrons scattered and the door to the Water Tribe Wing was shut.

With slumped shoulders, Katara surveyed the disaster around her. She knew Pakku wouldn’t be gone long. His drive to micromanage would bring him back with more clever quips than she felt ready to handle. But at least he would perhaps also have a team of able-bodied men to help lift the shelves back into place…not that having witnesses would stop any tongue lashing.  
  
Bending to pick up a few scrolls and bound books, she figured her best starting point would be to at least relocate as much material as she could to the safety of the back archives.   
  
Carefully tiptoeing her way to the concealed exit, she shouldered her way through the door and placed her armload as gently as possible onto the nearest available table. The surface was maybe big enough to hold two or three more trips worth, meaning she was going to need to clear up more space somewhere.  
  
Hands on her hips, Katara turned to survey the room, wondering what she could move.   
  
The archive was originally set up to be an exhibit of sorts to teach about Water Tribe life. It was a pet project of Pakku’s that still had yet to earn the go-ahead from the Board of Trustees, despite the fact that he submitted a request to open it every year.  
  
There were displays of fishing and hunting gear, traditional clothing, and beautiful beaded jewelry. On the walls were photos of igloos, tents, and wolf dogs. In the middle of the room was an actual full-sized boat that Katara still had yet to figure out just how Pakku managed to get in here.   
  
Maybe she could store all the scrolls on the boat’s deck? It was certainly large enough…  
  
As she headed towards the boat, a soft scraping sound caught her attention and her head turned to search for its source. It seemed to come from the corner dedicated to funerals and the afterlife.  
  
The only thing the Water Tribes were really known for was their mummies – bodies that remained persevered for centuries due to being frozen in blocks of ice upon death. Katara had a feeling if the exhibit focused more on that rather than their culture as a whole, the Library would have no problems with approving Pakku’s request.  
  
As it was, Pakku despised the idea of being sensationalized over such a small portion of their heritage and merely had a hollowed-out casting of an ice block to show for it. Supposedly, there was the preserved body of a thief resting within it, but Katara still had yet to muster up the courage to actually look.  
  
But that was where the sound had come from…right?  
  
It wasn’t that Katara was scared of mummies. Her problem was the exact opposite, actually. She had always been fascinated by the practice and all the steps her ancestors had taken to ensure the deceased would find their way to the land of the spirits.   
  
But ever since her grandmother had passed away, she had a hard time looking at the bodies. Every withered face she saw would morph into Gran-gran’s, and the lids that covered empty eye sockets would creak open as the mouth twisted into a reassuring smile in her mind’s eye.  
  
And so, as she approached the icy coffin, her plan was to only get close enough to make sure a rodent hadn’t fallen in or anything before getting back to work.  
  
Standing several steps away from the block, she stared at its translucent walls and stiffened when she saw movement from within. Biting her lip, she shuffled closer and carefully leaned forward—  
  
—only to have her scream echo loudly against the stone walls as the mummy lurched out of its tomb to greet her with open arms, much as Gran-gran always did.  
  
It took Katara several long, heart-pounding seconds to recognize the rasping sound she was hearing was actually her brother laughing so hard he could barely breathe.  
  
“You—y-you—sh—your _face_!!”  
  
Katara’s gaze darted between Sokka and the mummy he had his arm around, which thankfully looked like nothing more than the husk of an unfamiliar body.   
  
Her fear rapidly morphed into embarrassed anger.  
  
“Sokka! La, show some respect for the dead!” she rushed forward to punch him in the arm before gripping his shirt to physically drag him out of the coffin. “What on _earth_ made you think it was okay to even—? If I wasn’t already in hot water with Pakku, I’d accuse you of being the one to boil the pot!”  
  
Leaning back against the fake ice block once he was successfully out, Sokka waved a hand as he calmed himself down.  
  
“What’s that old fart done to you now? You know you’re not obligated to put up with his attitude—”  
  
Katara shook her head. “It was me this time. I might have – accidentally – completely destroyed the library.”  
  
Sokka’s eyes widened. “The _whole_ library??”  
  
“Don’t be stupid, it was just the Water Tribe Wing,” Katara corrected with a scowl.  
  
“Oh. Well if it was _just_ the Water Tribe Wing…”  
  
“I’m serious, Sokka!! I might be losing my job for this!”  
  
Sokka shrugged. “Then quit while you’re ahead. It’s not like you owe Pakku anything.”  
  
Katara glared at her brother. “Is that outlook the reason why you can’t hold down any jobs out here?” Turning on her heel, she stomped her way back out to the library, intent on continuing to clean. “Pakku’s the one who got the both of us out of the South Pole, who saw my talents and gave me this job, and—”   
  
“Okay, fine, I get it, you—sweet Mother of Spirits, you _actually destroyed_ the entire wing!” Sokka froze in the doorway, his jaw on the floor. “How did you even—? Has Pakku seen this yet? Because he’s going to kill you. Alright, don’t panic – I’ll help. If we can clear off a small space, I can start lifting the shelves—”  
  
“He’s already seen it,” Katara intoned as she picked up the scrolls at her feet. “I’m pretty sure he’s waiting to fire me until after this gets cleaned up.”  
  
Rather than grow angry and defensive on his sister’s behalf, Sokka’s face brightened. “This is great!” he exclaimed, his arms spreading out wide. “I’ve got just the thing to make him forgive you!”  
  
Katara’s eyes squeezed shut in frustration. “Sokka, I swear if you’re about to pass off another knock-off trinket you found out in the sand for me to show—” her words cut off when she opened her eyes, immediately recognizing the symbol on the tiny octagonal box being held before her.  
  
Three swirls positioned in a triangular pattern – it was the mark of the mythical Airbenders.  
  
“Where did you get this?” she asked, carelessly dropping the scrolls so that she could take the small box in her hands to better examine it.  
  
Turning it over, she saw that the other side was embedded with white iridescent shells, in the shape of a simple flower. A flower that looked strangely familiar, yet Katara had no idea as to where she might have seen it before.  
  
“Some guy gave it to me,” Sokka answered. “I recognized the Air symbol right away, but he didn’t try to talk it up, let alone mention it, I figured he had no idea as to what he was passing off.”  
  
Bringing the box up to eye level, Katara turned it right side up to peer closely at the markings that decorated each metallic panel. It was hard to tell with all the years of wear and tear dulling down the carvings, but it looked like the figure of a person dancing with a turquoise stone ball.  
  
Her breath suddenly left her as it hit Katara as to what the images might actually portray. Could it possibly be… _Airbending?_  
  
“Come on, Katara, contrary to what you might think, I am actually get tired of hunting down nothing but junk all the time. Please tell me I found something worthwhile for once.”  
  
“Sokka…” Katara carefully placed a finger on each of the eight turquoise beads and pressed down, causing the bottom of the box to pop open and a folded scrap of parchment to fall out. “…I think you might have found something.”  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

“Look, it’s _obviously_ a map—”  
  
“I’ve cross-checked the locations listed—”  
  
“—and if you’d just let us _follow_ it, we’re bound to find _something_ —”  
  
“—and even though the paper is in excellent condition, I’d say it’s at _least_ three thousand years old—”  
  
“Yeah! Three thousand year old, untouched history! There’s gotta be loads of things there worth pawning off!”  
  
“—which means this is very likely an authentic map that could lead us to the location of Taku.”  
  
Both Sokka’s and Pakku’s heads snapped towards Katara.  
  
“Whoa, wait, _Taku_?? As in the lost city of Taku??”  
  
“The _legendary_ city of Taku,” Pakku corrected with a frown.  
  
The amendment did nothing to erase the stars from Sokka’s eyes. “That city was known as the resting place of the Spirits!”  
  
Katara nodded excitedly. “Just think of all the myths we could root back to it! All the history! And possibly even bendi—”  
  
“People came from all over the world to leave offerings of gold and gems and other shiny things – Pakku, you need to get us a permit to leave the city for this!!”  
  
“We’re scholars, not treasure hunters,” Pakku scoffed as Katara moved forward to lean over his shoulder.  
  
“See? It’s there.” Her finger hovered over a small drawing of a temple surrounded by trees. Underneath the temple were two glyphs that spelled out—  
  
“Daaa…gu?” Sokka struggled to decipher upside down through the worn ink.  
  
Pakku shook his head and set the map down on his desk. “I do hope you realize this is most likely a fake.”  
  
“What? There’s no way!” Katara argued. “You saw the box it came in—”  
  
“A forgery placed in an authentic piece,” Pakku cut in. “That’s the oldest trick in the book to get people to go on wild goose chases to…” he picked the map back up and brought it close to his face. “…Dagu.”  
  
“It reads ‘Taku’,” Katara snapped. “That curve is a wrinkle and the dot is part of a stain.”  
  
Pakku’s entire face scrunched into a squint and he angled the parchment closer to the flame of his desk’s lamp in an attempt to see it clearer.  
  
“Katara, why didn’t you tell me that was a map to Taku?” Sokka demanded, placing both hands on the desk in righteous anger.  
  
“Because technically, it isn’t,” Katara countered. “It’s just a partial map of the continent that happens to contain what might be The Lost City. Besides, if I had told you earlier, you would have ran off touting about it and gathering untrustworthy people—”  
  
“Hey! I wouldn’t have touted!” Sokka’s lower lip jutted out defiantly and his gaze shifted towards Pakku to see if the older man believed him. What he saw was Pakku holding his nose and the map far too close to the fire. “Whoa! Watch out!”  
  
The exclamation was enough to startle Pakku to save his nose, but the map went right into the lamp.  
  
Sokka quickly dragged the parchment out of the fire and threw it to the floor, where Katara dropped to her knees and began to blow and pat out the flames. Sokka followed her example, but their combined efforts were proving to be fruitless as the blackened edges of the hole continued to expand.  
  
It wasn’t until nearly a quarter of the map was burned off when water was finally splashed onto the parchment and pulled to life long enough to sluggishly chase away any lingering flames.  
  
Both Sokka and Katara sat back, surveying the damage in shock.  
  
“When are you going to teach me how to do that?” Katara asked, fingers reaching out to hover above the remaining pebbled water droplets.  
  
Sokka was far less impressed. “You destroyed it! You destroyed the most important part of the map!”  
  
“It was for the best, I’m sure,” Pakku stated calmly as he slowly lowered himself back into his chair.  
  
Rage brought Sokka to his feet. “You did that on purpose!”  
  
A warning glare was shot towards him. “I have watched acclaimed scholars ruin their careers and lives trying to prove the existence of Taku. Countless fools have even gone so far as to try and track the city down. No one has ever found it.” Pakku’s eyes narrowed. “Most never even return.”  
  
“So what? You think you’re protecting us??” Sokka shouted. “You just ruined what might have been anyone’s best shot at actually finding it! Just because you’re too much of a chickencat to push the boundaries of history doesn’t give you the right to do the same to us!”  
  
“Sokka!”  
  
“No, Katara! He may have helped us out by bringing us here to Ba Sing Se, but he’s been keeping us under his thumb ever since! I’m done being oppressed by this jerk.” And with that, Sokka turned on his heel and stormed out of the office.  
  
For a moment, the two remaining occupants stared at the door in shock. But Katara was quick to recover, grabbing the remains of the map and scrambling to her feet to chase after her brother.  
  
Waiting until he could no longer hear Katara calling after Sokka, Pakku rose to his feet and moved around his desk to see if the fire had caused his floor any damage. Worry gnawed at his gut for Kanna’s grandchildren. They had so much of her spunk. But regardless, he was sure what he had just done was for the best.  
  
+

  
“I can’t believe you!” Katara exclaimed, marching after the guard. Her glower was made that much harsher by the glow of the crystals that stuck out from the walls of the large underground cavern. “Do you have any idea how much trouble we could have gotten into if this guy showed up at the Library and reported the box as his??”  
  
“Hey! Considering we’re in the middle of a prison, do you think you could keep your voice down about the illegality of my actions??” Sokka hissed, throwing his arms around Katara and dragging her into his side to silence her.  
  
Katara’s response was to punch him in the stomach. Hard.  
  
It had taken the better part of yesterday afternoon for Sokka to calm down, and it was only at Katara’s suggestion of possibly finding the man who had gifted the box for any clues as to where he had obtained it that Sokka had at last cheered up.  
  
Unfortunately, it was then that Katara learned the less-edited version of where the map had come from.  
  
“You robbed an innocent bystander in the middle of a bar brawl!” Katara boldly reminded him as she pulled herself away. “And then you lied to me about it!”  
  
“I lie to everyone!” Sokka pointed out as he rubbed his upper abdomen.  
  
“I’m your sister!”  
  
Sokka scoffed. “That just means I make sure my lies towards you are harmless.” His arms came up in an exaggerated shrug and his voice went up an octave. “Of course your hair looks great! No, you’re not weird! Pfft, that dress doesn’t make you look fat at all!”  
  
Katara’s raised fist brought a quick end to the teasing.  
  
“Look, the guy got arrested! He’s not going to be reporting anything anytime soon. My secret was safe with me,” Sokka explained smugly.  
  
“Are you two coming or not?” their escort demanded from his position by an empty cage.  
  
The bars for the cell were positioned in a half-circle around the wall of the cavern, curving back into the solid rock just above the wooden doorway.  
  
Dropping their argument for the moment, the pair reached the cage just as its entrance burst open and a man was shoved through, falling face first into the dirt below.  
  
“Here you are. ‘Shaggy man with a big scar.’ Prisoner number three-six-five-nine-eight. Says his name is Lee.” The escort snorted in disbelief, eyeing the siblings as if expecting them to get the joke. When they both failed to react, the man rolled his eyes. “You have fifteen minutes,” he instructed over his shoulder as he left them to go deal with the next set of visitors.  
  
Within the cell, the green light of the crystals highlighted the paleness of the Lee’s skin as he struggled against the guards’ help to pick him back up. It wasn’t until one of them grabbed him by the hair that his struggles lessened enough for them to bring him to his knees and shove him towards the bars where his guests were.  
  
It was then that Sokka caught on to the guard’s amusement. ‘Lee’ was a fairly common name in the Earth Kingdom. But this man, with his milky white skin and hard golden eyes was clearly Fire Nation material.  
  
Noticing his sister’s wide-eyed stare at the brutality before her, Sokka placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure this is the best idea?” he asked lowly. “I really don’t think he’s going to cooperate with the guy who stole from him…”  
  
Katara didn’t answer. Her attention was completely taken by the scar that covered a good third of the man’s dirtied face.  
  
“What?” Lee growled out when the staring went on for far too long.  
  
Katara blinked, mentally shaking herself out of her stupor. “I’m sorry. My name is Katara and this is my brother, Sokka.” Her arm came out blindly to motion to the man and ended up sliding across the chest. She hardly took notice as she stepped forward. “We found something we think belongs to you and wanted to ask you about it – your puzzle box?”  
  
The prisoner frowned for a moment, his gaze piercing in their assessment of Katara’s eagerly hopeful façade before he leaned back. “No.”  
  
“No?” Katara echoed. “No, what? It’s not yours?” She glanced back at her brother.  
  
“No, you want to ask me about Taku.”  
  
Katara drew back in surprise. “Ta-?”  
  
“The Resting Place of the Spirits,” Lee clarified. “Lost City. Full of treasure beyond anyone’s imagination.” His eyes narrowed.  
  
Sokka visibly perked and rushed forward. “You can tell us about Taku?”  
  
“No, I’m telling you I _refuse_ to—” Lee’s frown deepened as his attention switched over to Sokka. “…Do I know you?”  
  
Sokka blanched and immediately tried to laugh it off. “Nah, I’m sure I just have one of those faces. You know how it is with you Fire Nation types. Most Earth Kingdom commoners look the same.” He waved it off. “But let’s stick to the facts here. How do _you_ know about Tak—guh!”  
  
His question was cut off as Lee’s eyes abruptly widened with the fury of recognition and a fist flashed between the bars and met squarely with Sokka’s jaw.  
  
He went down like a sack of bricks.  
  
The action was not without its consequences, and the guards inside the cell proceeded to kick and beat Lee to the ground.  
  
“Hey, stop! Stop that!” Katara shouted, stepping over Sokka’s prone form and grabbing the prison bars.  
  
The guards listened and backed off, leaving Lee to pick himself back up.  
  
“I’m pretty sure my brother deserved that,” Katara said in explanation as she was eyed warily. She crouched down to put herself level with the prisoner. “If you don’t mind my asking, how _do_ you know about Taku’s connection with the puzzle box?”  
  
For a brief moment, she didn’t think she would get an answer. Then, “Because that’s where I was when I found it.”  
  
Katara’s eyes widened. “You were actually at Taku?”  
  
Gingerly folding himself into a cross-legged sitting position, Lee winced at the strain it put on his bruised joints. “Yeah, I was.”  
  
“Truthfully?”  
  
“I don’t make it a habit of lying,” Lee snapped.  
  
“Yeah, sure. _Lee_ ,” Sokka intoned in the background as he clambered to his knees. “Ow…”  
  
Katara’s disbelieving stare shared her brother’s sentiment, causing Lee to blush and look away.  
  
“Usually,” he muttered in amendment.  
  
Glancing up at the guards in the cell who now stood back by the door and then behind her to check for anyone else in their immediate vicinity, Katara shifted and leaned in closer to the bars.  
  
“Do you think you could tell me how to get there?” she asked lowly.  
  
“Where? Taku?” At Katara’s happy nod, Lee scowled. “That’s a terrible idea.”  
  
Katara’s head drew back with a frown. “Why?”  
  
“Because no one ever comes back alive.”  
  
“You obviously came back just fine,” she countered.  
  
Lee’s flat look didn’t hold an ounce of triumph. “I’m in prison.”  
  
Within the cell, the door cracked open and a third guard poked his head through to whisper to the two stationed inside. Katara watched with enough apprehension to have Lee twisting around to see what was going on. When the guards moved forward, Lee grimly pushed himself to his feet.  
  
“Here’s some famous last words for you: Give up and settle.” Chains were clamped around Lee’s wrists. “Nothing good will come from chasing a dream.”  
  
“Wait, where are you—where are you taking him?” Katara asked, switching her question from Lee to the guards. “We were told we had fifteen minutes!”  
  
She went ignored, as Lee was lead back into the depths of the cave.  
  
“Rude,” Sokka intoned, leaning against the bars besides his sister. “Maybe we should lay low for a while. If they’re onto him knowing about Taku like we are, they might have taken him in for interrogation. And since we were the last ones talking to him, they might start keeping their eyes on us.”  
  
Katara rolled her eyes. “Of all your absurd conspiracy theories—”  
  
“Finished already?” Their escort was back.  
  
“No,” Katara snapped, irritated. “They took him away before we were finished.”  
  
The guard looked completely unapologetic. “That typically happens when the prisoners get rowdy.”  
  
“Except he wasn’t!” Katara argued, doing a bit of a double take at the frown Sokka shot her. His jaw was looking rather swollen. “He calmed down!”  
  
“Oh, sure, because _that_ makes it all better,” Sokka snarked. “Still, she has a point. Where exactly are they taking him?”  
  
“Hmm…probably…” The escort raised his brows in thought and pulled out a pocket watch. “Yes, probably to be hanged. It’s about that time.”  
  
Sokka’s eyes widened in shock and Katara’s jaw dropped.  
  
“What? Why? He was just in a bar brawl! Disturbing the peace is hardly a death sentence!”  
  
The escort shrugged. “He’s Fire Nation. What better excuse is there?”  
  
His laughter bounced off the cave walls, as he took no note of the horrified look Katara and Sokka exchanged.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: avatar-reyn


End file.
